Stay
by Just Chasing Rainbows
Summary: Howard and Emma face devastating news


**I hope this is ok. Apologies for any spelling / grammar issues**

To begin with she could ignore it. Not that she thought there was much to ignore, it couldn't even really be described as pain – it was more of a muscular tug; a low ache but certainly not pain. She just expected it to fade in to the background as the day went on; to the point that she'd think about it later on and struggle to recall when exactly it had ceased. It was certainly nothing that she was going to mention to Howard.

He was protective of her now. She wasn't certain that she could describe him as caring, or not in the traditional sense at least – but she knew that the baby, and as an extension of that her own, health and safety mattered to him. He was a near constant presence during her working hours, ensuring that she was eating correctly and taking in adequate hydration. He seemed to have swallowed a textbook or three on pregnancy, although it meant he expected things to happen exactly as the book described. When she had disappeared from his office to vomit the other day, he had assured her that her sickness should have stopped by now. She had forced herself not to snap at him in retort that clearly his child didn't quite have his respect for rules as yet. She was surprised looking back that Howard hadn't complained that her sickness had occurred in the middle of the afternoon as opposed to the morning. But as much as he frustrated her, she knew that he was coming from a good place. He seemed so determined that he was going to do things right this time.

She understood that. This was another chance for her as well, although it had taken her slightly longer to get her head around the whole situation. Rather unexpectedly, Howard had wanted the baby even when she herself had been unsure. He hadn't been able to mask how he felt when she'd told him that she was going to carry on with the pregnancy, and she was certain he wouldn't have been able to hide his disappointment had she told him that she wasn't going to keep the baby. She was certain he would have supported her regardless, but he would've been clinical and professional. He would be the Howard that the world saw and not the Howard she knew existed beneath the surface.

She hadn't truly known her own feelings until the appointment with Ruhma, until she had been faced with the prospect of their not being a baby within her. Those minutes as they had waited had been agonising and it was then that she had realised how much she really did want this. It was ridiculous and illogical, but all the same she wanted it. The relief when she had seen that tiny beating heart, and her child growing safe and sound within her uterus had been indescribable. The only other person who understood that feeling was Howard. In truth he had rather stepped up his mission to keep them both safe since that day.

He was enthusiastic to that they should enjoy this pregnancy. She had swallowed down her response that it was difficult to enjoy some of the effects that came with pregnancy. It was quite difficult to put a dampener of his happiness. She wasn't entirely certain she fancied the array of classes he was already talking about – nor was she certain his attendance and participation would be encouraged but he was trying. He really was trying, and in turn so was she.

She couldn't decide when the discomfort shifted towards being pain. She had been working steadily through her morning list, dealing with nothing out of the ordinary. She had been aware when seeing Mrs Hamilton that something wasn't quite right, but she didn't attribute that to, what was still at that point, an ache. Instead she'd had the flash of panic that she was going to have to excuse herself in order to make a hasty dash to the ladies. But nothing had happened, and Mrs Hamilton had left her consulting room none the wiser as to her GP's condition.

It was one of Emma's fears, her pregnancy becoming evident. She knew that her patients would soon start noticing her abdomen becoming more rounded, and she knew she would face their judging looks; she could almost hear their whispers – "at her age" "and she's a doctor". She can almost hear Mrs Hamilton's voice in her mind saying the words.

It had been when Mr Jacobson left her consulting room that she had found herself squeezing her eyes shut, able to give in to the twinge in her lower abdomen. Finally alone, she wrapped her arms around her mid-section as though that could make everything stop. She had bit down on her lower lip to stop herself making any noise. It still wasn't the worst pain she had ever experienced. It didn't yet evoke memories of the past. When finally the pain had settled, she had seen the next patient in, silently pleading that she'd get through this, that nothing more would happen.

Having Tillie Howard as her patient was difficult. Oh the baby was perfectly well behaved, but it didn't make things any easier for Emma. As she felt the weight of the small girl in her arms, she had felt the wave of pain settle over her, enough that she'd had to battle not to display any outward indication. She had somehow managed to exam the girl all the while trying to swallow the lump that was growing in her throat; trying to ignore how her mind kept trying to relate holding Tillie to holding her own child. She had been grateful when she'd been able to hand the baby back to her mother, and she'd had to force a smile when she saw the relief on Jo Howard's face when she was assured that Tillie was in fact fine; that she was perfect. She longed to be able to hear someone reassure her in the same way, but she could no longer convince herself.

After Jo had carried her daughter from the room, having thanked Emma profusely, the doctor found herself sinking down in to her chair, hands settling against her abdomen. It didn't feel any different, though she wasn't entirely sure what she was expecting. Her baby was too small to give her a reassuring nudge, to let her know that he or she was ok. No as yet her child hadn't really made its presence known beyond the sickness and the change in her tastes.

When the pain came again, she braced herself. Eyes squeezed tightly shut, hands pressed tightly against her abdomen as though she could hold her child and keep it safe. She knew that it was pointless. She was entirely powerless here, and yet she finds herself again pleading silently that this will be the last. She doesn't hear the door to her office opening, or the footsteps approaching her. She is only aware that someone else is in the room because of the hands that fall on her knee, the voice that speaks her name.

When finally she opens her eyes, she is all too aware the tears have slipped from her eyes. She finds herself looking in to Howard's concerned face. Turning away from him she sees print outs flung haphazardly on her desk; some more classes, a comical tiny outfit that she is certain he'd found amusing and an assortment of others that her eyes fail to focus on. She tries to stop her vision from blurring; to stop the tears from forming there.

"Are you alright?" He sounds so unsure of himself. If only he were a little bit more preceptive. She turns back to him and sees the way he shakes his head as though annoyed by his own stupidity, "no of course you're not," he corrects himself. Slowly he peels one of her hands away from her abdomen and holds it tightly in his own.

"Howard," she says his name quietly. She knows from the pleading look in his eyes, he wants her to reassure him that everything is alright. Even if she does, he will drag her to see Ruhma, but he will be placated that it's only a formality. Only she can't do that. She can't give him false reassurance. Desperately she is trying to push away the memories that are trying to break free from where she has locked them away. She tries to focus herself, but the pain keeps sneaking its way in to the forefront.

"What's wrong?" His eyes fall to her abdomen, where one hand has stayed firmly pressed, "is it .." he tails off unable to say the words. Unable to commit himself to the terrible reality. Slowly she nods her head, not wanting to speak the words any more than he did.

"I think we need to see Ruhma," she says the words quietly, giving in to the reality. Tears slip down her cheeks. It feels like acceptance, and yet in his eyes she can see the vague glimmer of hope beneath the fear. She cannot have hope, not when she has felt the twist and pull of her uterus. She is vaguely aware of him pulling out his mobile phone and making the phone call. She just about hers him tell her that had almost gotten the answering machine of Ruhma's work phone, as she'd only just switched it on for her late shift. Emma hadn't even considered the possibility that it wouldn't be Ruhma who would look after her, nor is she quite prepared for the relief that it'll be a familiar face at the hospital and not a stranger.

Around her, Howard moves purposefully; somehow rearranging thing so that the pair of them can leave but without letting on what is happening. She doesn't know what Ruhma has said to him, but it seems to have reassured him more than she could. When it comes to time to leave, he supports her body as though she is going to splinter in to a thousand pieces without him there to hold her.

* * *

She doesn't recall much of the drive to St Phil's or indeed how they managed to get from Howard's car to the room that Ruhma had shown them in too. She was vaguely aware of Ruhma asking her questions and how she had tried to answer them. She knew she wasn't the most helpful of patients. She hadn't kept track of how long the pain had been going on. She was near certain that she hadn't had any bleeding but she also hadn't checked for certain. She was aware of Howard pacing around the room, frustrated by the questions and lack of action.

"We'll have a listen in to this little one shall we?" Finally Ruhma got down to what Howard wanted and he stilled by Emma's side. Slowly the doctor lowered her trousers, before she felt Howard taking her hand. She curled her fingers around his and felt as he gently squeezed. She closed her eyes, as she felt Ruhma slip a piece of tissue in to the top of her trousers, "Now I'm sorry this gel is cold, and as you know your baby is still very small, so we may not pick him or her up immediately,"

Even with the warning, the cold gel hitting her abdomen is enough to cause Emma to gasp, and in response Howard tightens his grip on her hand. She doesn't dare to open her eyes to see the expression on his face. She is certain he is expecting to hear the reassuring beat of their baby's heart. He'd make a comment about it being so fast, too fast and then Ruhma would laugh lightly as she told him that it was perfectly normal. It was how this would play out if this was a perfect world.

She knows however the world is far from perfect. She hears the sounds coming from Ruhma's handheld device, but there is no rhythmic beating of a heart. Ruhma asks her to change position slightly and she does so wordless. All the while her hand is gripped within Howard's.

She hears the sound of movement, and she feels the tension in Howard's grip change. Only she squeezes her eyes more tightly shut. She isn't even sure how long they've been in this room, or how long Ruhma has been spreading the gel around her abdomen. She has gasped as she has pressed hard, testing different angles. The blop of movement comes again. She can't recall how many times she has heard it now.

"What I think we'll do, is get you a scan," Ruhma's voice is soft, and within seconds she has slipped from the room. Tentatively, she opens her eyes, to find Howard looking alternatively at her abdomen and her face.

"The baby is moving so that's positive," he says the words with a small smile, when finally their eyes meet. She bites down on her lip for a moment, she doesn't know how to tell him. She doesn't want to take away the look of hope and relief in his face.

"Howard," She tries to keep her voice neutral but it's near impossible. She knows that it is only a matter of time before it's confirmed. She knows that she will have to score through the words written on her diary's page for the 15th April 2016. That was the day their baby should have been due. Should have. It strikes her that already she is thinking in the past tense.

"You heard it, Emma," She can't deny that she had heard the sound. But she knows. She tries to tell him with her eyes, so that she doesn't have to speak the words. How had she done this before? She tries not to think of it, tries not to let the rush of emotions overtake her, "We get to see our little peanut again,"

"Howard," she doesn't want him to be excited. It'll only make this harder for him. He was already planning on 3D scans so that they could have seen the baby's features before birth. She wouldn't have been surprised if he'd already booked a slot even though it wouldn't have been for months.

"Do you think I can take a video of peanut?" In the last scan, he'd forgotten to ask and had moaned about it on the drive back. The still photos weren't quite enough for him. She closes her eyes for a second, trying to gather enough strength to do this.

"I've been through this before," She sees the confusion on his face when she opens her eyes, the way he tilts his head ever so slightly to one side.

"I know," She is surprised by that. She is certain that she had never told him anything and there was no other way that he could know. It was one of those things she didn't talk about, that she tried to forget about, "But things have changed since Chris,"

"Howard, I didn't mean …" she allows the words to fall away. Of course she should have realised he would have thought instantly of Chris when she herself had forgotten, "When Chris was younger, I fell pregnant again," the words are barely audible when she speaks them. It has been so long since the day she had discovered she was pregnant again. It had been entirely unplanned, and she had struggled to adjust to the idea of a second baby when Chris still seemed so dependent on her. But she had come round to the idea.

"I don't understand," It seems impossible that she has kept this secret for so many years. Chris never knew that he was to be a big brother. He'd asked that Christmas for a baby brother and she'd had to swallow back tears to respond to him. The baby had been a secret from so many people, that nobody had known when it was lost.

"She would have been 23 this year," She had never known the gender of her baby, but she had always assumed that it would have been a daughter. When she had thought about this baby, she had tended towards female pronouns as well – and only now does that strike her

"Em.." he starts to say her name but a slight movement of her hand stops him. She swallows hard.

"I was 14 weeks exactly when the pain started, I tried to convince myself it was nothing; that I'd had pain when I was pregnant with Chris and everything was fine," she closes her eyes tightly to try to still the tears that are threatening to fall, "I tried to carry on as normal until Sam found my curled up on the bathroom floor, I can't even remember if the bleeding had already started when he found me but by the time we got to the hospital there was nothing they could have done," she doesn't tell him that they had tried to listen in as they had done today, or that she had prayed that those sounds of movement meant that the baby was alright. She had been more naïve then. She had kept that hope until the sonographer had turned the screen away from her so that she wouldn't be able to see the still heart of her baby. After that point, things blur in her memory.

"That doesn't mean it's happening again," He is so obviously trying to keep his voice light but it is of no use to her anymore. At some point he has let go of her hand and is pacing the room once again. She could do with that contact with him again.

"She was so tiny, but absolutely perfect," they had tried to convince her that she wouldn't want to see the baby when it was born, she had never been able to say miscarried or lost. In the end there was no choice. She would have seen the baby regardless. It was an image that had haunted her for a long time, and yet she knew it was what she needed. She'll do the same this time, "I tried to pretend it wasn't happening again. Maybe if I'd accepted it sooner,"

"Don't say that," he's stalled somewhere in the room. She can sense that he is no longer moving but she doesn't know quite where he is. His voice sounds strangely close and distant at the same time. She doesn't understand it at all.

"It's my fault," she swallows hard, "I was going to have a termination, I wasn't going to go through with it and now …. Now I'm not going to be given the choice," it hurts her to say the words. Perhaps if she had loved the baby earlier. Perhaps if she'd been sensible and realised she was pregnant like a normal woman rather than carrying on. She was responsible for taking away Howard's chance of fatherhood.

"It's not your fault," He says the words, but she cannot believe them. She knows that eventually he will come to realise that they aren't true.

"I'm sorry, Howard," She knows she isn't crying now, not outwardly at least. Internally she is screaming. She feels him come closer, his arms wrapping around her body. One hand falls on to the slick surface of her abdomen.

"Don't Emma," He speaks in to her hair, "You don't know, you didn't cause anything to happen," he sounds more defeated now. She is holding her so tightly once again.

"You don't have to stay," She closes her eyes. She isn't certain how she will do this on her own but she isn't going to ask him to stay by her side. He shouldn't have to see this. She doesn't get to hear his response because the door to the room opens. Emma opens her eyes to see Ruhma and the sonographer who had performed her first scan.

It's a subdued affair. Howard having released her body has resumed his grip on her hand, while Emma focuses on the ceiling above. There is no point looking at the screen. She hears the sonographer speak quietly but she doesn't take notice of the words. Ruhma would have briefed her fully. Then there is the pressure on her abdomen as the probe is pressed against it. She feels Howard tighten his grip and knows without looking that his gaze will be fixed firmly on the screen. She hears the sound of the sonographer turning the screen away.

"Why?" She hears Howard utter the word. He hadn't been able to make sense of what he'd have seen on the screen before it was turned from him. She should have been able to protect him from this. It's her fault.

"Emma, Howard," it's Ruhma's voice which comes first not the sonographers. She knows what its going to come next. She still remembers those words from last time. They will tell her that her baby's heart has stopped beating. They will offer them condolences and then they will want to talk about options. She isn't even aware of what Howard is doing now. She thinks he is still holding her hand, but she isn't certain. She is just about aware of the tears that are flowing down her face. She isn't going to be a mum again. She isn't going to feel her baby kick and wriggle within her. She is never going to hear her baby cry. She doesn't even realise that the sobbing is coming from her body until she feels her body being pulled against Howard's.

"You don't have to stay," the words are choked out between sobs, as she tries to push him away while somehow still clinging to him. He could leave, forget this happened. He doesn't have to stick around now. He is no longer tied to her life; to birthday parties and christmasses. They won't have to watch a child walk in to school on their first day or have to sit through school plays and recitals. They won't watch as their child grows in to adulthood, towards graduation and marriage and one day grandchildren. They won't hold their baby in their arms, though she has already wormed her way in to their hearts.

"I'm not leaving you, Emma," he holds her tighter, holds her as though he is never going to let her go, "You don't have to do this alone," he is swallowing hard and she knows that he is trying not to let on how devastating he is. She wonders if he is scared about what is to come. She doesn't want to admit it but this baby had given her hope that perhaps something more could happen for them; they weren't doing it in the right order but perhaps this would have been the start of something new, something better. She sobs harder, soaking his shirt, "I'm here, Em, I'm here," she feels his lips press in to the top of her head, feels dampness as his own tears fall on to her hair.

"I didn't mean for this to happen," she whispers the words in to his chest, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she isn't sure who she is really apologising too. She is sorry that she has taken away Howard's chance at fatherhood, sorry to for herself but equally she is sorry that she took away this baby's chance at life.

"You've not done anything wrong, Emma," If he held her any tighter her body would meld in to his, to anyone looking in it would be near impossible to tell where one ended and the other began, "You didn't cause this, it's not your fault,"

"Don't leave me," She sobs the words. A plea to him, to the baby. She doesn't know anymore. He kisses the top of her head once again before using one hand to tilt her chin so that they are facing each other. Two tear stained facing gaze at each other. He kisses her tenderly on the lips, their tears mingling. He half expects her to push him away, to scream at him but she doesn't. When he pulls back, she just watches him, searching his face.

"Never," he whispers his reassurance before tucking her body against his again. He looks to Ruhma and the sonographer. He knows they will have to make decisions but now isn't the time. Chances are Emma already knows what she wants to do. He hears the strangled sob that emits from Emma's lips and he wonders if nature will decide for them. Her body shudders in his arms, sobs wracking her body that she cannot even attempt to control. He holds her as tightly as he can, looks to the two professionals in the hope that they can tell him what to do. He is terrified and unsure but he cannot say that. Only his eyes stray to the screen to their side. The frozen image of their still baby. Their perfect baby. A sob bursts from his throat before he can stop it. He closes his eyes but the image is still there. He holds Emma as tightly as he can. He doesn't know what is going to happen, but right now all he can do is hold her, and be with her. He buries his face in to her hair, and murmurs his reassurances to her. He just hopes that he is enough for her.

 **Today is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day and at 7pm there is the Wave of Light in honour of these babies. This is what inspired me to write this fic.**


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